


Halloween

by zubateatscakes



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Candy, Halloween, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Prompt, wry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 18:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10418757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubateatscakes/pseuds/zubateatscakes
Summary: A candy point of view in Tokyo Ghoul universe, or how a half-ghoul managed to get his favourite ghoul investigator to notice him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [prompt](http://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcqg42itxN1qee12to2_1280.png): Tell the story of Halloween from the perspective of a piece of candy. I'm not following it to the letter.  
> You can find the tumblr page [here](http://writingprompts.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Please note: This is supposed to be after Mado’s death, but before Aogiri Tree — or in a parallel universe where nothing else has happened after Mado’s death until now. 
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Tokyo Ghoul.

   Being a candy is a very tough job, especially on Halloween nights.

   This is the story of how I died. This is the story of the unyielding power of love.

#

   Everything began the day I was bought. It was an average Saturday of October. The pale sun rays warmed us candies through the glass panel of the store, and the customers swarmed inside, chit-chatting gleefully while getting ready for the big event at the end of the month. On the other hand, we, knowing that we’d die one way or the other and already accepting the dreadful curse cast upon us for the magic power of sugar that resided in us, weren’t as enthusiastic and cheerful as they were. Really, we were rather _chuffed_.

   Slowly, cautiously but with no gawkiness, a pair of gentle hands lifted me up from the box. A lone black eye examined me attentively, the other covered by a whitish patch, skimming through my ingredients on on the left of my flashy plastic package I was very proud of.

   “Pork ramen flavoured? He might like it,” the client muttered to himself, lips curled in a bittersweet smile. He took me, and only me, to the cash register and left the shop as soon as he was done. So I was supposed to be a present now. Cheap of him, wasn’t it? He hadn’t even bought me a fancy gift packet.

   It surprised me when he didn’t shove me carelessly in the pocket of his sweatshirt. Instead he held me cautiously in his hands throughout the whole trip to his workplace, as if I were the most important thing in the world to him at that moment, although I was rather inexpensive. _Humanoids_ — whoever understood them was blessed.

   “Hey Kaneki, what’s that?” a blue-haired girl asked rudely as soon as my owner went in the changing room of the cafe he worked at.

   Kaneki gasped twice, no words escaping his mouth, and averted his eyes, guilt written all over his face.

   “You can’t be serious. It’s dangerous, he’s a dove — a fucking ghoul investigator. He kills people like us, do you understand that? Or do you think he’ll close an eye with you just because you’re not the average ghoul?” she snapped angrily, carefully keeping her voice down.

   “Touka…” Kaneki mumbled.

   “Be rational enough and get real. And stop stalking him.”

   “I’m not—”

   “Who is he?” she asked out of the blue.

   “Koutarou Amon, black-haired and teal-eyed, twenty-six years old, about six feet and three inches tall, about ninety-four kilogrammes, works as a First Class Ghoul Investigator and lives in the 20th ward several blocks away from my own flat. Usually, he goes back to his flat at 9.30 p.m. and walks out early in the morning. He likes pork ramen and—”

   “Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll correct myself — you’re definitely hopeless _and_ shamelessly stalking him.”

   Yay, lucky me! So now I was some hopeless stalker’s candy. Maybe I should just stop being sarcastic all the time — all in all, candies ought to be sweet and totally lovable, not wry-tongued devil pieces made of sugar, but _hey, guess what_ , sometimes appearance was deceiving. Well, whatever it wasn’t my mistake anyway. Had I got a pair of shoulders, I’d probably be shrugging now.

#

   It was already dark when Kaneki came back to the changing room and hastily switched to his casual clothes. He picked me up and trotted out of the cafe and through the streets. His grip on me was firm albeit not too tight despite how enthusiastic he was, excitement oozing from every inch of his white smooth skin. He was probably going to see his bulky little obsession, because — let us speak frankly — that man was a tank according to his description.

   His pace slowed until he stopped. He furtively hid behind the corner in a dark alley and spied on a building for endless minutes, fingers entangled around my package.

   His target showed up and matched the investigator’s physical description. He was quite good looking — I acknowledged that, though I didn’t understand what else my owner could see in him, but I guessed that infatuation worked in strange ways. He carried himself with elegance and composure but looked rather severe. He probably had a regimented life and didn’t easily accept new things, but perhaps he had to be this way because of his job. He couldn’t afford to waver when working. A simple error or faltering for a second could be fatal, so he had to be firm in his beliefs. It wouldn’t be strange if he had the same attitude in personal matters as if it were some sort of professional deformation.

   I felt a bit bad for my owner. If he didn’t stop this thing soon, his hopes might soar too much, and the fall that would definitely follow wouldn’t leave him with just a few scratches and a bitter taste in his mouth.

   Amon went into a flat building, disappearing from their sight. Kaneki sighed and sneaked out of the dark alley after a couple of minutes not to be seen by his crush.

   He crept up to the main entrance in the quietness of the evening. Fists clenched, his whole body tensed as he searched for Amon’s name among the letterboxes, he looked braver, but it was mere appearance, a deceiving disguise, and just a cheap decoy to trick himself into drawing closer to that flat — and it became pretty blatant as he tried to put me in the box with his quivering fingers that stopped out of fear in midair.

   He ran away with me still in his hand, not looking back even once. He sheltered in his own flat, plodded and slumped to his bed, sinking in the soft mattress that smelt fresh and clean. He curled up, as if to protect himself, and hugged me tightly to his chest, my showy package almost crumpling beyond an acceptable degree but not bursting open.

   “I’m a coward.”

   Yes, he was, but it was pretty courageous of him to be obsessed with a ghoul investigator, his natural enemy. It was like in _Romeo and Juliet_ , two people of just as many different factions with a not-so-friendly rivalry going on between the two families. I couldn’t help but hope their ending wouldn’t be the same.

   Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

#

   Halloween night came three days later, and so did Kaneki’s resolution. That was why I was once again in his hands while he was shivering in front of that damn letterbox.

   Thankfully, my owner’s shift ended quite late so I was spared the bloodcurdling sight of ugly children and a bunch of despicable, obnoxious blokes feasting on my peers and giggling like creeps. Indeed, most people always went home early, almost always before midnight, despite the festivities because they were too afraid to be attacked and devoured by ghouls to walk home alone when the surveillance was at its lowest.

   The road was clear. Kaneki stepped forwards, resolved to put me in that letterbox.

   “So it was you,” a male voice startled him away halfway through. Their faces met, their eyes opening wide. It was Amon.

   “What’s this?” the man said and snatched me from his trembling hands. He examined my flashy package very carefully, his lips mutely mimicking the ingredients, and queried cautiously once he was done, “Why were you trying to put it in the box?”

   Kaneki noticeably blushed and averted his eyes to his feet, which would obviously drive any normal, curious person to scrutinise him closely for some clues. And Amon wasn’t any different. “Have we ever met before?”

   Kaneki flinched and looked at him with a flustered eye, the other one covered by the patch.

   Amon must have noticed this tiny detail. “Eyepatch?”

   Wow, a lame name. Ghoul investigators sure had a lot of fantasy. No irony, _I swore_.

   “Who?” Kaneki asked in reply, with a puzzled look on his face.

   “No one. You just reminded me of a person I met a while ago and I—” the man said and paused for a short while as if he had just noticed something he should already have. “Wait. You’re him. Shit.”

   He squeezed me in his hand and unsheathed his quinque, pointing it at the ghoul, who simply spread his arms wide and stayed put.

   “This again? What’s the meaning of this?”

   Kaneki looked away and stiffened. He begged, “I’m not here to hurt you. Don’t make me fight again, please.”

   He sounded desperate, but sincere.

   Amon lowered his quinque and sputtered, “Then reply to my questions. Why didn’t you kill me last time? And why did you ask me not to make you a killer? Aren’t you already one by definition? And more importantly, what’s with this candy?”

   “Some people kill other people, but some others don’t. It’s as easy as this. We don’t need to kill to… provide ourselves with food.”

   “You don’t have to put it kindly. I already know you eat human flesh.”

   “Eww, don’t make me think of that. It’s gross!”

   “What the heck?” asked Amon quizzically.

   Kaneki just apologised uneasily, and the ghoul investigator added warily, “I can’t believe you. There are no records of this.”

   “That’s because we always keep a low profile.”

   “Well, I recognise you have a point. I might give you the benefit of the doubt,” the investigator said, putting his weapon away, and I could finally see why Kaneki was so head over heels in love with him. Amon was different — he was willing to listen to a ghoul, the very thing he was supposed to destroy without any second thoughts. “Whatever. More importantly, what’s with this piece of candy?”

 _More importantly?_ The first time I heard it, I thought it was some kind of mistake due to the sudden realisation of Kaneki’s true identity.

   Kaneki blushed strongly and looked away. “I thought you might like it. It’s pork ramen flavoured.”

   “And how would you know? Wait, don’t answer. I probably don’t want to know,” he thought out loud. He looked at me suspiciously, unwrapping and analysing me to see if I had been spoilt but not finding anything. He chewed me down. Thankfully, the magical sugar was anaesthetic so everything I felt was dull and boring albeit squishy and wet. Awfully wet. My soul, the very thing that allowed me to think and feel, detached from my physical body and started hovering around in the air.

   “It’s pretty good. Thanks,” Amon commented, but received only a smile in reply, so he added, implying he wouldn’t report him, “I… should go now. Today I haven’t seen any ghoul.”

   “Thanks,” Kaneki whispered, a bit relieved.

   “The name’s Amon. Oh, Eyepatch, meet me at the park on W street this Saturday at noon. I have the day off.”

   “Call me Ken.”

   “So Ken be it.” Amon replied and went in the building while Kaneki walked away.

   Slowly, I finally faded away.

 


End file.
